


Running Water

by BlairFagin



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Shower Sex, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-26
Updated: 2014-09-26
Packaged: 2018-02-18 20:18:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2360975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlairFagin/pseuds/BlairFagin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a long day at his desk Megatron decides to go find his lover in the wash racks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Running Water

Megatron groaned, stretching his limbs until they cracked and the pressure building in his joints was relieved slightly. It had been so long since he’d had a proper night’s recharge and his body was slowly wearing down because of it. Being co-captain of the Lost Light was exhausting, always with some emergency happening or a pile of paperwork needed to be taken care of. He didn’t know how Rodimus handled it, no wait that was a lie. He knew how Rodimus dealt with the paper work, by not doing it. A benefit to sucking the spike of Ultra Magnus, the one glitch in existence who enjoyed writing reports. Megatron eyed the pile of data pads on his desk, mind toying with the idea of following Rodimus’ example. 

Megatron shuddered violently and leant back in his chair, rubbing his optics with the heel of his servos. He must have been more exhausted than he had thought, he was near delirious. Why would he even think about something so repulsive, especially with such a delectable lover at the moment? Where was Trailcutter anyway? He consulted his chronometer and found that Trailcutter was just finishing his shift, most likely heading to the wash racks before returning to their shared hab suite. In a few minutes Trailcutter would be standing under a spray of solvents, the liquid running down his frame, dipping between the transformation seams. Megatron's spike stirred behind his panel demanding attention. He guessed he wasn’t as tired as he thought after all. He could go back to their hab suite and wait for Trailcutter there, spike out and ready to go, but his spike seemed taken with the idea of his dripping wet lover. 

Five minutes later he was standing in the busy wash racks searching for Trailcutter. He nodded in acknowledgment to several crew members, including Rodimus who was clinging to Ultra Magnus’ side.

“I’m surprised to see you sir,” said an unfazed Magnus. “You usually stay in your office until all the paper work is done. Unless you’ve already finished it all?”

Megatron almost laughed at the hopeful look on Magnus’ faceplates. “Unfortunately not, I decided to take the evening off. But I assure you I’ll get them all done tomorrow. I won’t rest until they’re done.”

“Very good, captain.”

Rodimus bit his derma and glared up at Ultra Magnus, unhappy with any sign of Megatron’s rank.

“You two wouldn’t happen to know where Trailcutter is, would you? I can’t find him anywhere.”

Rodimus motioned down the block of wash racks. “Way down the end there I suspect. He uses the bigger wash racks, he likes his space. The wider frames and couples always do.” 

Megatron ignored the jab and thanked the two before walking away.

“Just remember, Megs,” called Rodimus after him,“There’s no interfacing in the wash racks, it’s against the rules.”

Megatron grit his denta, holding back the retort budding in his vocaliser. No need to start an argument, especially when stress relief wasn’t far away. 

The doors to individual cubicles grew wider as Megatron progressed towards his goal, the ceiling sweeping upwards as the height also increased. The truly massive wash racks were all occupied, mostly by couples by the sounds of it. He could hear their giggling behind the doors and the faint clang of metal against metal, barely detectable above the loud chatter. How was he supposed to find Trailcutter when he didn’t know which door he was hiding behind? He paced back and forth several times, wondering if he should try Trailcutter’s comm. line and ruin the surprise when he heard it. A soft sigh that was almost lost behind the rush of liquid, which he only noticed because of how familiar it was. 

He pressed an audial to the door and listened for another sigh to confirm his theory. Another soft moan drifted through the door, followed by another and then another. He slid open the door and was rewarded by the sight he had spent the majority of his shift thinking about. Hot solvent rained down on the dark frame, cascading down the black metal as Trailcutter moaned in bliss. Megatron slid the door shut behind him watching with hunger as his lover massaged the bubbling solvent into the soft protoform under his plating, which had slid back to allow him access. He followed a trail of the foamy pink liquid down Trailcutter’s back and his intake’s stalled when it slid over that pert aft. 

Megatron watched, speechless, as Trailcutter’s interface panel slid back and a servo disappeared between those thick thighs. Megatron’s spike hit his panel with a loud thud as he watched Trailcutter’s fingers rub solvent between the mesh folds of his valve. He found his ability to move when Trailcutter bent forwards to rub solvent between the plates of his legs, baring his valve in the most obscene way.

He crept forwards until he was right behind Trailcutter and grabbed him by the hips, pulling his aft back to grind it against Megatron’s pressurised spike. “Well aren’t you a sight for sore optics.”

“WHAT THE FRAG!” screamed Trailcutter as he flung himself forwards and put up a force field between them.

Megatron growled when he was forced backwards, the force field smashing into his abdomen.

“Trailcutter, it’s me!” hissed Megatron between clenched denta, feeling his battered plating and thanking primus his spike hadn’t taken the hit. 

“Megatron!?”

There was a loud bang on the door. “Teebs! Is something the matter? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine Skids, just thought I saw a scraplet, but it was just my servo.”

A laugh echoed through the wash racks. “Okay, Teebs. Well, have a good shower and try not to get scared by your own shadow. I’m in the cubicle next to yours if there’s a real emergency.”

“Thanks, Skids,” muttered Trailcutter.

Megatron raised an optical ridge. “A scraplet?”

“Well what was I supposed to say? If we get caught in the same cubical Rodimus will flip out and have Ultra Magnus throw us in the brig.”

“That’s a harsh punishment for a little fooling about.”

“It’s Rodimus’ fault. If he can’t frag in the wash racks then he’s determined to make sure no one else can.”

Megatron pulled Trailcutter towards him and leant down to mouth at his audial. “We’ll have to be extra careful then, perhaps I should gag you?”

Trailcutter shuddered in his arms and tilted his head back so Megatron could pepper rough kisses all the way down his neck, switching between feather light pecks and sharp nips at the taut cabling. 

Trailcutter sighed going limp in Megatron’s arms and allowed himself to be manhandled up against the slick wall.

“I apologize for frightening you, let me make it up to you,” whispered Megatron as he tugged and pinched Trailcutter’s thighs. 

“Oh, please do,” giggled Trailcutter as Megatron pressed kisses down his chassis. “I was so scared, absolutely terrified. You’ll have to very nice to make it up to me.”

Megatron hummed in acknowledgment as he licked down the plating of Trailcutter’s abdomen until he rested on his knees before Trailcutter’s bared interface components. The array looked so delectable soaked in solvents, from the gleaming folds to the anterior node hidden behind bubbles. That wouldn’t do, he didn’t want a single part of Trailcutter hidden from him. He shoved Trailcutter’s hips back against the tiling and wrenched those heavily plated thighs apart so he could fit his helm between them. A cut off moan rewarded Megatron as he licked the bubbles from Trailcutter’s anterior node. His glossa stung of the sharp taste of cleaning solvents, but there was also the slight taste of Trailcutter. He needed more and he buried his face between the thighs again for a second taste. 

Megatron dug his fingers in between Trailcutter’s hip plating as he lapped and sucked at the swollen anterior node savouring the familiar taste with each swipe of the glossa. A strong servo found his helm as he pressed his face in deeper between the trembling thighs with his probing glossa searching deeper between the folds. Above him Trailcutter writhed as Megatron plunged his glossa into his valve lighting up the nodes that lined the entrance. The sharp tang of the solvents completely disappeared to be replaced by the slick, smooth flavour of Trailcutter’s lubricants as they hit his mouth. 

Megatron placed a small kiss on Trailcutter’s anterior node and pulled away, a string of lubricant’s connecting his derma to Trailcutter’s valve. He massaged the quivering array with a rough palm and looked up at the gasping Trailcutter. 

“Unfortunately I can’t eat you out till you overload, that would take too long and the others would get suspicious. I’m afraid we’re going to have to skip to the main event, if that’s okay with you?” asked Megatron, still teasing the tender components with his servo.

Trailcutter gasped and leant back, helm bumping against the wall. “Yes!” he whispered as his optics dimmed. “Please, just take me now.”

“With pleasure,” growled Megatron as he surged to his feet and turned Trailcutter around to press him against the wall.

With one smooth movement Megatron pulled that delicious aft back and sheathed his spike deep inside Trailcutter’s fluttering valve. 

“Oh Primus,” gasped Trailcutter, mouth agape, as he braced his hands against the wall and pressed his face into the tiles. 

Megatron grinned when Trailcutter glanced downwards, optics taking in the sight of the massive spike stretching his trembling, hot valve. Lubricant gushed out past the stretched rim and flowed down over the bumps and ridges that decorated the spike’s length. Those same optics offlined as Megatron pulled back, ridges catching the valve rim in just the right way, torturing the already over sensitive nodes. A quick thrust forwards and the optics onlined again with a sharp gasp mouth wide and open as a full frame shudder racked him. 

“Quiet Trailcutter, you don’t want them to hear us.”

Trailcutter shook his head in answer unable to form words.

“Or maybe, that is what you want?” asked Megatron as he pulled back again. “Have them come running and open that door to find you taking spike up against the wall. Like the wanton slut you really are, but no one knows about. So debauched that you don’t even have the decency to be embarrassed, as all you are aware of is my spike inside you, pleasing you. Giving you everything you desire. And my spike really would be all you desire, because I make you feel so good, don’t I Trailcutter.”

Megatron punctuated each sentence with a slow thrust unable to pick up the pace due to the noise. It didn’t seem to matter, as Trailcutter’s valve was clenching and pulsing around his spike wildly, hips giving little uncoordinated jerks. The pace was maddening for Megatron as well, he wanted nothing more than to pound into his lover with every ounce of strength he possessed, so much it physically hurt. But it was a good pain, one that urged on his arousal higher and higher. Fogging his senses so his whole world narrowed to the tight valve stretched round his spike. 

Trailcutter was still unable to answer mouth open with the silent screams he wanted to indulge in. Optics unable to look away from the sight of Megatron’s spike, filling and leaving him, ridge by torturous ridge. 

“I do make you feel good, don’t I? Otherwise you wouldn’t be so fragging tight here,” Megatron pressed his fingers against the stretched entrance. “You’re clutching me so tight, as if you never want to leave your body again. And you know what, I know you do. You want my spike to stay in you forever, pleasing you in ways that no one else ever could.”

Megatron roughly grasped Trailcutter’s face in his free servo and tilted his helm back till they were optic to optic.

“And I in turn wish the same, because no one has ever made me feel the same as you. There’s been no valve as perfect or spark as warm.”

Megatron crushed their mouths together in a brutal kiss, pouring all his pent up emotions into the act. In the same moment the servo playing with Trailcutter’s valve pinched his anterior node, hard and unforgiving. Megatron swallowed the squeal as Trailcutter overloaded hard and violent, valve callipers spiraling down on his spike, dragging Megatron’s own overwhelming release from him. Transfluid gushed from his spike filling Trailcutter’s valve until it was too much to contain and it spilled down his shaking thighs. 

The two stood still, servos braced against the wall and vents open as they tried to cool their frames. Once Megatron had regained the strength and will to move he pulled his spike free as Trailcutter whined at the loss.

“Later,” promised Megatron with a smile. “Right now we have to get clean and out of here before anyone notices something is amiss.”

Trailcutter nodded, optics dim and tired. Megatron leant in to place a small kiss on Trailcutter’s derma and then set to work cleaning them both. He had just picked up a cleaning rag when there was a sharp rap of metal against metal.

“Who’s in there?” demanded Rodimus pounding on the door. “I know you’re fragging, don’t think I didn’t know! I could hear the clanging all the way down the other end of the wash racks.”

Megatron froze, unsure how handle the situation. The possible actions ran through his processor, ranging from opening the door with his usual bravado and confidence to attempting to hide Trailcutter’s frame behind his own so he could pretend it was just him in there.

“No we weren’t! Go away, Rodimus.”

Megatron glanced down at Trailcutter, it hadn’t been him. Wait, was Rodimus outside a different cubicle door?

“Yeah right, Skids. I can hear you know. Now open the door.”

“Just please leave, Rodimus!” replied Swerve, his voice joining the argument.

“Aha! So I was right, someone is in there with you. The jig is up, the turbo fox is out of the bag, you’re caught with your panels open and the only option is for you to unlock the door and face the consequences.”

Loud thuds echoed through the wash rack as Rodimus pounded on the door. Megatron chuckled and pulled Trailcutter into an embrace as they stood under the spray together. Trailcutter’s entire frame shook in Megatron’s arms as he tried to suppress a case of the giggles.

“Magnus! Come here! I need you to bust down this door.”

“That would be a gross invasion of privacy Rodimus.”

There was a sharp slap of metal hitting the floor, most likely Rodimus stomping his feet on it.

“They’re fragging in there! Last time I checked that was against the rules.”

A heavy sigh and something large pounded against the door.

“Come on, out now you two and you won’t get any time in the brig.”

There was a cut off gasp and the scrape of metal.

“Just give us a sec,” said Swerve in a strained voice. “We’ll be out in a minute.”

“WHAT! Are you two still fragging in there? Is he inside you right now, Swerve,” demanded Rodimus.

Trailcutter was almost doubled over as he clutched his abdominal plating his free hand pressed to his mouth to muffle his laughter. 

“No?” answered Swerve, following his answer with a strangled moan.

Magnus pounded on the door again. “That’s it, out now!”

Megatron leant over to whisper in Trailcutter audial, “Let’s quickly clean up and make an escape back to our berth while that mess is going on.”

“Good idea,” whispered back Trailcutter as the door next to theirs was broken down.

The rest of their shower was spent in relative peace for Trailcutter and Megatron as next door an argument erupted, followed by two arrests. Next chance Megatron could get he was going to request private wash racks for both of the Captains’ hab suites so Megatron could frag in peace, Rodimus could just frag, and everyone else wouldn’t have to worry about Ultra Magnus breaking down their door mid-frag.


End file.
